by Kevin George
Samuel shook his head, wanting to point out that such a catastrophe would require the use of any free space, whether that be at The Mountain or the potential bunker. But the other Board members looked at Betty and nodded their agreement with her.
“We must not fool ourselves,” Dr. Weller interceded. “The Mountain could face its own issues over time.”
Martin looked at him and snorted. “I find that hard to believe,” he said indignantly. “Have you seen this place? As Sam pointed out, the construction workers have already built—and continue to build—a stronghold unlike any this world has ever known, a lair in the middle of a mountain, for Christ’s sake. And under the guidance and leadership of the men and women in this room, we’ll have full control over the final resources attained and gathered by One Corp.”
“And by the Jonas family,” Samuel said, his brow furrowed.
“Yes, your father built One Corp. from the ground up,” Betty Van Horn said. “But this Board was put in place to help the company reach such heights, including its ability to acquire these lands and construct this bunker.”
Samuel stood from his chair, leaning both hands against the massive table, ready to call security and have every person in this room removed from The Mountain. He only hesitated because he wasn’t certain if the head of security would remain loyal while Charles Jonas was away. Samuel startled when he felt a hand suddenly touch the back of his shoulder. He spun, nearly attacking Dr. Weller, who held up his hands and took a small step back.
“We’re all on the same side,” Weller said, a statement meant for the group though his eyes didn’t budge from Samuel. “And the truth is, if we expect to survive—and expect future generations of our families to survive—simply because The Mountain is large and well-built at this moment, I think we’re kidding ourselves. The public has chosen to ignore climatologists for decades, but every major environmental catastrophe has been predicted long before any of us was born. Therefore, is it crazy to assume the experts are still going to be right about how bad the weather will get? How long it’ll last?”
“Of course not,” Martin said, “which is why we’ve worked so hard to turn this bunker into a reality.”
“And this is where humankind will exist forever?” Dr. Weller asked, looking around at the fancy boardroom. “Within these rocky walls?”
“I’m sure there’s a point to all of this,” Betty said. “Are you going to get to it, as you promised?”
Samuel turned to Dr. Weller, realizing what the doctor must’ve promised The Board before he arrived. Samuel shook his head and pushed away from his chair, taking Weller by the arm. He tried to guide the doctor to a quiet corner of the room, but Weller immediately yanked his arm away, his eyes flashing with anger that Samuel had never seen from him.
“Is everything okay, Dr. Weller?” Betty asked.
Weller’s hands shook, but the tension melted from his face. He glanced to the men and women around the large table and nodded, flashing his most convincing smile.
“I understand why some people are resistant to change,” he said, turning his eyes from The Board to Samuel. “And I understand why some people are resistant to trust.” He leaned in closer and whispered the next part so only Samuel could hear. “This was my project—and my father’s idea before me—long before I ever trusted you with the details. The project is. . . proceeding. . .”
“The trespasser?” Samuel asked. “It worked?”
“Is there something you wanted to share with the entire group?” Martin asked, finally standing from his chair. He was smaller than Samuel realized, his physical stature as unimposing as his rat-like facial features. It sickened Samuel to think anyone from The Board had as much power as they did. But Dr. Weller took Samuel by the arm and nodded, causing Samuel to sigh and nod.
Dr. Weller gestured for Samuel to sit down and Martin followed suit. The doctor stood beside Samuel and crossed his arms.
“While First Bio has assisted Charles Jonas on a number of One Corp. research projects since my father sold his company, I have always remained focused on the main goal first set forth in our labs, controversial though it might be,” Dr. Weller said. “Genetic hybridization has always garnered strong reactions from people, whether they’re for or against it. There was a time that Charles Jonas was greatly interested in what we were trying to accomplish; as he grew older, that interest. . . waned. Luckily, Samuel had the foresight to approve the continuation and development of the Hybrid Blast.”
“Blast?” Betty asked carefully.
Dr. Weller explained the Hybrid Blast as an injection that would force the genetic splicing of the human genome with that of a particular animal to modify a person’s physical makeup to survive in the new world.
“The way our bodies are currently constituted, we would have no chance to live beyond these walls,” Weller said. “We can hope that The Mountain remains intact for the duration of the new Ice Age or we can plan for future generations to leave and search out other places on Earth to repopulate and start over.”
Martin steepled his fingers in front of his face, while Betty looked to the other members of The Board, some of whom appeared nervous, others interested.
“This Blast sounds. . . complicated,” Martin finally said. “If what you say about the world’s shortened lifespan is true, won’t you run out of time before perfecting such a procedure?”
Weller smiled. “I’m already years into research, as well as the testing phase. . .”—the doctor glanced to Samuel, who quickly looked away—“. . . on animals. These tests have already led to much success. Normally, scientists would continue testing for many years and gradually study the Blast’s effects on different species. But due to what’s happening in the world and the importance of what I’m trying to accomplish, I was hoping for approval from The Board for human testing to—”
The door suddenly burst open and a lone man hobbled into the room.
“Father,” Samuel said. “You’re back.”
Charles Jonas stopped and looked at the shocked faces on the men and women of The Board, ending with a glare for the two men standing by his seat at the head of the table. Dr. Weller scurried back to the corner of the room.
“That’s a very astute observation, son,” Charles said. “As is my observation about the rarity of a Board meeting being held without my presence. I don’t believe that’s ever happened in the time we’ve inhabited The Mountain. This is the first trip I’ve taken away in several years, yet now was the time chosen for such a meeting? Strange, don’t you think?”
“We appreciate you collaborating with others trying to continue humankind,” Martin said. “But we have a responsibility to this company and this stronghold and we decided to focus on business as usual, with or without you being—”
“Father, please,” Samuel interceded. “We meant no disrespect. Nobody knew when you’d return from your trip and it was my decision to call this meeting. Now that you’re back, we’d love to hear about your trip and what you learned from the others.”
Charles made brief eye contact with his son, anger melting from his face as he nodded. He hobbled around the table and sat in his seat, which Samuel pulled out for him. Charles stared down at the table as he spoke excitedly about his meeting with owners of major North American corporations.
“The Ellisons have plans far grander than ours,” Charles said with a mix of awe and disappointment. “Considering their involvement with NASA’s deep space exploration program, the Ellisons have considered constructing a base on the moon.”
Martin LeRoque snorted, earning a glare from Charles. “Impossible,” he said. “Something like that would take years to execute. Unfortunately, that deep space program wasn’t started soon enough.”
“You are privy to what NASA has or has not accomplished? What NASA has or has not chosen to make public knowledge?” Charles asked.
“Are you?” Betty asked.
“As a matter of fact, this meeting was attended by a high-ranking N
ASA official, who was quite forthcoming with information about the government’s long-term plans,” Charles said. “It seems that those in charge of our country aren’t as foolish as they sometimes seem; they haven’t ignored the climate data as much as it seems. They’ve even downplayed the potential danger—controlling the media in the process—so normal humans continued their lives without constant fear. This has been going on for years while they’ve made their own plans for the continuation of humankind.”
“And?” Martin asked. “Would you like to inform us of those plans?”
Charles shook his head. “I would not,” he said. “Mostly because I wasn’t given many specifics. Regardless, the government was greatly interested in what all of us are planning.”
Samuel reached out and took his father’s arm. Charles turned to see Samuel raise a questioning eyebrow. His father leaned in closer and whispered a simple message. “When the time is right.”
Charles continued to explain how the Ellisons ultimately chose to turn to technology originally designed for inhabiting planets that did not have a solid surface.
“HASSes,” Charles said. “High Altitude Survival Stations. A collection of stations banded together in Earth’s atmosphere.”
His explanation of the Ellison plan received several eye rolls from The Board, as well as doubts about the long-term feasibility of such an ark. The Board was equally unimpressed with the plans of Malcolm Crichton, the world’s wealthiest shipping magnate, who was currently constructing a ship of such amazing grandeur that it would put to shame anything ever built for the USNA Navy.
“Blimps and boats are the best they’ve come up with?” Betty asked, her voice oozing with condescension.
“Neither seems comparable to the genius of One Corp.’s Mountain, sir,” Dr. Weller said, stepping forward.
Charles huffed. “Yes, we’ve had some of the world’s foremost experts helping here, but we shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the efforts of others. Humankind needs all the help it can get, and not just within our Mountain and our village. I assume more survival arks will pop up in the future, but I think it’s important that we work with the Ellisons and the Crichtons and the government in whatever capacity we can.”
Martin LeRoque shook his head. “Your opinion is duly noted, but let it be known that the official opinion of The Board is focusing on The Mountain, focusing on ISU-Ville, even focusing on the underground bunker that’s being considered. These are the things we can control. The first round of employees moving into the village. Even Dr. Weller’s continued research into changing our people to help survive against Earth’s new weather conditions.”
Charles spun in his seat and eyed Weller, whose jaw clenched as he looked anywhere else than at the One Corp. founder.
“Have you been raising the idea of genetic splicing again?” Charles asked, his voice eerily calm.
“We were under the impression it was more than just an idea,” Betty Van Horn added.
“Must I remind you about your father’s failed past with such an idea?” Charles asked Weller. “That First Bio nearly went bankrupt because of those failures? I’ll admit, your research is the reason I saved your company in the first place, but I’m far more interested in the promise your scientists have shown in other areas. You have plenty else to focus on without bastardizing the human race with this splicing. Besides, your father’s research was always shown to be impossible. If you’ve been trying to sell The Board on restarting this project—behind my back, I might add—then I’ll make it clear to all that it’s a waste of time and resources that I never approved.”
“But I did,” Samuel said.
Charles turned slowly and looked up at his son, who stood tall. Charles’s eyes narrowed and he leaned back in his chair.
“I thought you were too busy playing with your security drones to get involved with anything else,” he said.
Samuel’s eyes narrowed and he looked to The Board, many of whom watched with great interest. Samuel knew how Martin and Betty and the others felt about his father, but it was time to show them where the future of the company and The Mountain was headed.
“While you’ve been living alone in your ISU, I’ve helped Nigel advance his research with minimal help,” Samuel said. “He’s made more strides in the past few months than his father did in the years before and after you purchased First Bio.”
Samuel nodded to Weller, who explained the successes he’d had in ‘early’ animal testing, including an increase in layers of fat beneath the epidermis, an increase in the thickness and amount of body hair, all of which would allow warm-blooded mammals to survive in colder temperatures.
“Any side effects?” Charles asked, without a glance toward his son or the doctor.
“Several,” Dr. Weller admitted.
“Thought so,” Charles said. “Effective immediately, whatever splicing project my son has permitted will be shut down.”
“That isn’t a decision you can make unilaterally,” Betty Van Horn said, lowering her gaze when Charles Jonas turned to her. “I believe Dr. Weller should be allowed to further explain the merits of his Blast project, at which time The Board can vote upon—”
Charles slammed his hands atop the desk and stood, leaning forward. “I am still in charge of this facility and everything involved with it,” he yelled, causing a fit of coughing the others couldn’t ignore.
Samuel wanted to reach a hand to his father but didn’t. Though Charles’s breathing calmed, his eyes remained red and glassy, his voice strained.
“I have always respected and followed the wishes of The Board when it came to business,” Charles said. “But changes to the climate aren’t the only changes happening. If you think we all have equal say in matters of The Mountain, you’re wrong. Is that understood?”
The others looked to Martin and Betty, both remaining silent. The Board then turned its attention to Samuel and Dr. Weller, neither speaking another word.
“For the sake of formality, would anyone like to call for a vote in regards to my decision to shut down Dr. Weller’s Blast project?” Charles asked.
He looked from person to person, as if daring anyone to raise his or her hand or speak. Nobody moved. As the fire died in Charles’s eyes, his own gaze lowered and he visibly calmed.
“Very good,” he said, pushing away from his chair. “I’ll be sure to keep you informed of plans I make with the other arks. Communication with them will be key.”
Without another word, Charles swept his way out of the room. All eyes turned on Samuel, who tried—and failed—to find the right words to say. Instead, he held up a finger and rushed out of the room. He caught up with his Charles in the hallway.
“Please, Father, can we talk about this.”
Charles shook his head. “After my trip, I came straight here to share what I learned and this is what I find? My own son working with those people behind my back? I suppose this is what I deserve after a lifetime spent focusing on business instead of family. I thought I was doing what was best for your future, but. . .”
“This isn’t about that; this isn’t about you,” Samuel said. “You’ve always looked toward the future. You were always one step ahead of everyone else. That’s what Dr. Weller’s project could—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I’m going back to my ISU. I’m going to be with the new villagers to help them transition into their new lives.”
Samuel watched his father go, knowing the old man was too set in his ways to change his mind. Samuel hoped that with more time, Charles might reconsider.
“Horace? I heard there was some trouble with him?” Charles asked after stopping.
Samuel clenched his jaw, his words filtering through gritted teeth. “No trouble,” he said. “Just curiosity. Boys will be boys.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Charles said. “You shouldn’t spend so much time with security, and you shouldn’t spend so much time being brainwashed into Weller’s bad deci
sions. If his father hadn’t been so revered by other scientists in his division, I would’ve had him ejected from The Mountain long ago.”
“That the same reason you keep me around?”
Charles looked up a moment, sadness in his eyes. He shook his head. “I keep you around because I see greatness in you, whether or not you see it in yourself. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll need me to go away forever before you realize the man you’re supposed to become. In the meantime, I wish you’d concentrate more on your own son.”
“I am,” Samuel said, stopping from pointing out the hypocrisy in his father’s advice. “And I wish you’d allow me to become who I want to be. I understand not listening to The Board; they’re fools who serve little purpose here. But I’m not who you think I am, I’m not Nigel’s puppet repeating the ideas he wants. I understand your concerns about his Blast program—”
“Do you?” Charles asked.
“I do,” Samuel said forcefully. “I realize Nigel doesn’t follow proper protocol for scientific research. I realize his methods and his personality tend to skew on the side of crudeness. But humans have been slowly evolving for millennia to adapt to their surroundings. We no longer have that kind of time, so why not help the process along? Could it really hurt to continue his project—to continue making improvements in his Blast—in case the day comes when we need it? Is that any less of a backup plan than the City Below you’ve authorized to be built?”
“The City Below?” Charles asked. “It’s already been given a name?”
“I guess it has now,” Samuel said.
Charles frowned. “Fine, allow Weller to continue. I may not trust him, but I do trust you to oversee what he’s doing, as long as you assure me he no longer ignores proper protocols.”
Samuel nodded. “Of course.”
“I also want to be kept informed of all developments of this Blast,” Charles said. “Even if that means you personally visit my ISU to deliver updates. Maybe bring that kid of yours to see his grandfather.”
Samuel smiled. “That can be arranged.”
